


With Sparkles

by AccursedSpatula



Series: Brotherly Love [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Community: norsekink, M/M, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-20
Updated: 2011-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-26 08:24:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedSpatula/pseuds/AccursedSpatula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Blue,” he’d say. “You had to get blue, didn’t you?”</p><p>Thor wondered what he’d reply to that. Perhaps, “It’s more of a cerulean, really,” or, “It was the only color they had,” maybe even, “It’s not just blue, it’s got some glitter in it, if you look,” but never the real reason, never, “Because it reminded me of <i>your</i> cock.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Sparkles

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a prompt over at norsekink. Prompt: http://norsekink.livejournal.com/6119.html?thread=11601127#t11601127
> 
> Written largely to prove I can write something that's not quite so dark.

Thor unzipped his jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, and then peeled off the tight gray T-shirt. He could never find ones that properly fit him—they either stuck to his body or drowned him, and Thor was displeased at the dichotomy between the sizes available. He had taken to wearing a hoodie over it, because it hid the shirt’s tightness and tendency to ride up. (Thor hated constantly pulling it down and trying to tuck it discreetly into the edge of his pants.)

The clothes he’d brought from Asgard did no such thing, but Thor had grown uncomfortable with the stares he encountered on a daily basis, so he had done his best to adopt the fashions here, learning from Steve and Tony for the most part. Tony had taken them both shopping one day, remarking that he wasn’t going to live with “an old man and someone who came straight from a ren faire.”

The sneakers were the next to go, left in a little pile out of the way so Thor wouldn’t stumble over them in the dark room. There was moonlight streaming in, and his eyes adjusted quickly to the semi-darkness as he shuffled over to the bed, flopping down on his back. The king-sized bed gave him enough room to extend his arms, and he lay spread-eagled for a few minutes, eyes shut, feeling the cool sheets on his back.

They felt nothing like the furs that had lined his bed once. Soft, warm furs, ones that had been so utterly sensual on bare skin. Thor had considered asking Tony to find some, but he’d quickly realized the connotations such furs held in regards to sex, and had decided he would track them down on his own.

With his eyes shut, he could almost pretend he was back there, lying on his old bed, the indigo light of midnight streaming into his room. If he let go enough, he could almost imagine that he would roll over and find the warm body next to him, a lean, lithe frame still half-asleep, dark hair mussed and cheeks still slightly flushed.

 _Loki._

Thor tensed and swallowed. He longed for him to be there, to be at Thor’s side once more, so that he could roll over and pull him close and savor the feel of skin on skin.

How many nights had they lain together? Infinitely many, it seemed. Hundreds of memories flashed through his eyes, centuries spent with a lover that he so sorely missed now, a lover that was always so close yet so far.

He sighed, eyes fluttering open to reacquaint himself with his surroundings, and to chase away any lingering hopes that Loki might actually be beside him. He didn’t know where his brother was right now, at this very moment; Loki had his life and Thor had his, and the two paths rarely crossed any more, a fact that grieved Thor.

Thor’s eyes shut again, preferring fantasy over reality, and he wondered if Loki would ever visit him here, consider a tryst in this very bedroom. He sighed, wishing he could feel Loki’s weight on his hip, feel his hands pinning Thor’s wrists down, and he wished more than anything he could open his eyes and see the mischievous, devious expression on his brother’s face.

He scrunched his face up, feeling the rush of blood to his groin. _Loki wasn’t here_ , he reasoned. It didn’t matter what he did—he had no lover at his side to guide or direct him or make any kind of request.

He opened his eyes, still slightly disappointed that there was no Loki above him, but he skimmed his hands down the planes of his chest, coming to rest at his hipbones, lingering there, just like how he knew Loki would. He would be anxious, and eager, along with his brother, but neither of them would rush. They would instead savor the act, taking as much from it as they could, neither knowing when the next time would be.

Of course, they’d fucked hard and fast on a few occasions, and there were merits to that as well, but now, Thor wanted to draw it out, wanted to remember as much as he could. His fingers fiddled with the button there, before teasing it open and working the zipper down, his hand slipping beneath the denim to palm himself through the thin cotton of his boxer shorts.

Thor’s touch was firmer, more forceful than Loki’s, and it was difficult to maintain any illusions that it was his brother touching him and not his own hands. His fantasy subsequently shifted, and now it was Loki watching him from a corner in the room, dark-eyed and expectant, leaning forward with eagerness on his face. Thor would tease, go slower than what they both wanted, enticing Loki until neither could stand it. The denim was carelessly shucked, leaving Thor in his dark red underwear, spread out on the bed like a heartthrob model in some trashy magazine.

He gripped himself harder, forcing a soft moan from his throat, more of anticipation than of pleasure. His eyes were half-lidded, staring absentmindedly down his body, watching his hand gently squeeze and then relax. He could feel his cock stiffen, could see it push against the fabric there, and a smirk crossed his face as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Thor’s hand darted beneath his waistband, finally sliding against his flesh and drawing forth a genuine groan as his fingers skimmed along his length. His body was singing for more touch, crying out to just give in and do what he wanted, what he knew would bring him to completion swiftly, but his mind told him how much better it always was when he waited.

Instead, he lifted his hips and wriggled out of the boxers, kicking them to the foot of the bed, and then parting his legs, knees bent and in the air, feet resting firmly on the mattress, presenting himself for his nonexistent audience. He scooted backwards, leaning against the headboard, and carefully ran his hand down the inside of his thigh, stopping before his groin, and then skimmed back up the outside of his leg to rest at his knee.

He parted his legs wider, hand now returning to rest between his thighs, slipping beneath his cock to encircle it, just light touches peppered here and there, enough to drive him crazy with want, and his free hand was twisting the sheets in an effort to restrain himself. In his mind’s eye he could see Loki, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watched in rapt concentration. It had always pleased Thor, to see Loki’s sheer _want_ barely contained by his façade of stoicism, and he had loved the power he had held in such a position, bartering his body like some kind of common whore.

Tentatively, he reached his palm up to his mouth and licked it, drawing a stripe across the middle in an obscene fashion, and then he reached down, legs tensed in anticipation, and wrapped his fingers around his cock. A low moan rumbled out of his chest, followed by a hiss as he slowly stroked up and down, thumbing the head before squeezing and twisting.

So good. _Too good._

He felt himself harden fully under the ministrations of his hand, each stroke more deliberate than the last, wringing every ounce of pleasure that he could get out of each one. His free hand wandered to his chest, at first stroking up the firm ridges of his stomach to finally pinch and tease at his nipples, moving from one to the other. Eventually he forced himself to stop, breath coming in pants, his mind screaming at him to just keep going, _just a little more, few more strokes, that’s it, don’t stop…._

No. He wanted more.

He bit his lip, holding his breath for a long second, before he rolled on to his stomach, trapping his erection between his body and the bed and fighting the urge to simply grind against it, savoring the friction on his cock. Thor reached for the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and rifling through the contents to find the small bottle he had hidden there.

Each time he pulled it out he was forced to smile at the memory of the clerk’s skeptical face when he had bought it, when Thor himself had been red-faced and sheepish, hoping no one would recognize one of the Avengers at a hole-in-the-wall sex shop buying a tube of Astroglide. If they had, nothing had become of it, and he had visited the store on a few more occasions, gaining a teensy bit more confidence each time.

Thor uncapped it, squeezing a bit onto his finger and spreading it with his thumb before his hand slipped between his legs once more, past his cock, to gently press at the most intimate part of him. He gasped, feeling himself twitch in eagerness, and he could almost hear Loki’s whisper in his ear, “ _Always so eager, my little whore._ ”

The imagined words pulled a moan from Thor, and he pressed his fingers a bit more deliberately, teasing but not breaching, just circling until he was gyrating his hips in anticipation. His hand was withdrawn, more lubricant added, and then he eagerly sought out his entrance once more, this time sliding in a finger with ease.

He had done this before. Many, many times, either with his own hand, or by Loki’s long, dexterous fingers stretching and teasing him with practiced perfection. Thor gave a whiny, breathy noise as he slid his finger in and out, the intrusion always uncomfortable for the first few minutes, until his body relaxed enough. He was tight and hot, and now a slick mess thanks to the lube, the sensations combining and making him feel wonderfully dirty, ready to be fucked hard into the mattress by the first taker.

His body wanted to throw patience to the wind and simply stretch himself as far as he could go, quickly, savoring the burn, but his mind told him otherwise. More whimpers spilled from his mouth, until he finally whispered a quick, “Fuck it,” and pushed a second in along with the first.

Thor pushed down on his fingers, taking them as deep as he could, sliding down to the first knuckle, until his hand prevented any further penetration, and he groaned appreciatively. He curled them, hips bucking off the bed when he brushed the tight cluster of nerves buried deep there, and he clenched around his fingers, pressing insistently again at that spot over and over.

Panting, his cock hard and aching and leaking, Thor drew his fingers out, adding a bit more lube (more was better, and besides, he didn’t care about messing up the sheets at this point; he’d change them in the morning), and then pressing three in. It burned—his fingers were significantly thicker than Loki’s, and there was always a good stretch and some resistance when he got to this point.

But it was worth it. It was so, so worth it, and Thor found himself shamelessly fucking down on his fingers, gasping and moaning with each breath, curling to touch that spot inside of him while his cock bobbed neglected on his belly. Loki would sometimes bring him to completion like this, push him on his stomach and spread his thighs, fucking Thor with his fingers while he rutted into the bed beneath them, moaning and crying and pushing back on Loki’s hand, desperate for more friction on either end.

Most times, however, he would use his fingers on Thor until he was sobbing, spreading him and scissoring his digits until Thor was a quivering, needy, babbling mess, and then push his cock in, filling Thor up and fucking him so hard he never thought he’d be able to sit straight again.

Thor pressed his thighs together, trapping his hand, and stilled his motions, breathing hard. He opened his eyes to the dim room, searching until he found his bureau, and then, with a whimpering sigh, he drew his hand out, wiping it on the sheets. He unfurled his legs, swinging them over the edge of the bed, and rose, opening the second drawer from the bottom on the bureau, and pawing through the sweaters and jeans with his clean hand until he found the object he was seeking.

There was always a small flush of embarrassment that accompanied its initial unveiling, but there was no one around to see it in his dark room, and he knew Loki would have eyed the thing with appreciation and curiosity, as well as some bemusement. He briefly wondered if Loki had ever seen a dildo before, let alone touched one.

“Blue,” he’d say. “You had to get blue, didn’t you?”

Thor wondered what he’d reply to that. Perhaps, “It’s more of a cerulean, really,” or, “It was the only color they had,” maybe even, “It’s not just blue, it’s got some glitter in it, if you look,” but never the real reason, never, “Because it reminded me of _your_ cock.”

He knew that would be followed by some snide comment about how Loki’s cock didn’t have sparkles, but his brother wasn’t around, wasn’t here to see him do this, and so he didn’t feel so ashamed admitting it to himself.

Thor clambered back onto the bed, feeling the lube between his thighs and the cheeks of his ass, savoring how slick and open he felt. He lay back against the headboard, legs slightly spread, knees bent once more, and retrieved the lube, pouring what he knew to be too much onto the object before spreading it with his hand, squeezing and fondling as if…as if…

…as if it were Loki’s cock.

Thor bit his lip to choke back a moan, the feel of silicone and rubber under his hands too dense and smooth to be flesh, but the realization did nothing to quell the desire for it to be. He parted his legs wider, obscene now, and rested the dildo between his legs, the tip pressing against his hole, which fluttered lightly, eager to be stretched and filled.

He made no effort to control his groaning as he pushed it in, thighs trembling as the head breached him, stretching him wide, wider than Loki’s cock actually would be, but that was the nature of these toys, bordering on hyperbole. He stopped once the head was fully in, gasping, and then pressed more, until he had taken as much as he could, several inches of silicone now resting inside him.

Thor squirmed, shifting his angle until he felt the head brush against his prostate, and then he drew it out partway and pushed back in, being sure to hit that spot, spots appearing at the edge of his vision. He tried a few more controlled thrusts, his body clenching down on the dildo each time he pulled it out, trying to keep it in him and savor that delicious full feeling, one that intensified with each stroke.

It was good, too good, but it was too hard to keep up any kind of fantasy without the feel of another body above him, and Thor pushed the dildo all the way in, holding it in place with a hand as he shifted positions, crawling up onto his knees to sit on his heels, facing the headboard. He gripped the end of the dildo between his ankles, parting his knees just enough for balance, and then rose up and slid back down.

Oh. That was good. _Very_ good.

He leaned forward, bracing himself on the headboard with one hand so he could slam down with abandon, fucking himself shamelessly on this sparkly imitation of his brother, gasping and moaning like a cheap whore as he did so. His breath came in little gasps, cut off by loud, startled moans whenever the head jabbed too hard against his prostate, and Thor shut his eyes and tossed his head back, now riding the toy without a care.

“I…I hope you’re w-watching, Loki,” he stammered. “So you can…a-ah…see just how m-much I miss you.” After a moment, for good measure, he added, “H-How much I miss your _cock_.”

He wanted to look down and see Loki beneath him, feel his slender chest and narrow shoulders, pin him down and ride him, grinding down on Loki’s hips as Loki met each thrust, pushing up into the tight heat of Thor’s body, savoring the obscene squelching sound his cock made on every thrust.

Thor reached down, hand wrapping around his straining erection, red and leaking and begging to be touched, and he gave a strangled noise at the contact, hand instinctively wrapping tight around his cock. His hips made a fluid, circular motion, thrusting up into his hand and then spearing himself back down on the dildo, and the sensations were quickly overpowering.

He began to whimper as pure pleasure started to pool in his lower stomach, spreading into his thighs and then throughout his body, and he knew he was close, too close. He pushed himself down harder, taking as much as his body would allow, gasping and moaning, his features contorted in desperation. It was degrading, really, to see just how much he came _undone_ during sex, how much the stoic, proud resolve of a warrior was reduced to this.

His orgasm hit and drowned him in sensation, Thor continuing to grind down on the blue silicone as he clenched tightly around it, his cock slick and super-sensitive in his hand, skin prickling all over, head thrown back in a silent scream. He came down after a few minutes, hands trembling, body hypersensitive to touch of any kind, and Thor leaned forward, reaching behind him to draw the dildo out of his body, leaving him feeling wet and open and thoroughly fucked.

He sighed, almost disappointed, realizing that he was still only partially contented, that he would never really be sated until he had Loki’s body in his hands once more, but resolved to the fact that he couldn’t do anything to change his brother’s absence. Shaking fingers grabbed the dildo, and Thor started to slip off the bed, turning around as he stood, too ashamed to look in the corner where he had imagined Loki to be sitting, knowing full well that his brother _wouldn’t_ be there, that it was all just a fantasy, just wishful thinking—

Something caught his eye there as Thor started to move, and he froze, suddenly embarrassed and…frightened? Carefully, meekly, he raised his eyes and looked over his shoulder, and Thor’s heart skipped a beat as he took in the whole image.

Loki sat in the far chair, face flushed and lips parted, leaning back with his legs outstretched and spread, the laces on his pants undone and pulled open, revealing his cock with a hand resting there, idly toying with himself as he looked on in devious delight. Thor inhaled sharply at the sight, biting his lip to prevent himself from saying any of the hundreds of things that had come to mind in the past few seconds.

Loki stood and walked proudly over to Thor, heedless of his semi-dressed state. He reached out, ran one long finger along the skin just above his ass. Thor felt the area tingle, and knew that if he could see it, he would see a line of dark runes appearing.

He still remembered the night Loki had done it. Behind him, still _buried _in him, one hand gripping his hip so tightly he'd left bruises that were clearly visible a week later. Loki's finger running along the skin at the bottom of his spine, so cold it had burned, and Thor had moaned like a whore when Loki whispered fiercely, “ _Mine _,” as he'd traced the runes of his name into Thor's flesh with magic. It didn't matter that Loki was the only one who would ever see them, the brand attuned to his magic alone, because Thor knew it was there, knew that he was marked as Loki's _forever_. He moaned in anticipation as Loki skimmed the tips of his fingers over the dark marks, admiring his handiwork and the flesh it lay on with a smirk.____

“Get back on the bed,” Loki said without preamble, his eyes dark. Thor knew it was an order, not a request, and he shivered in delight.

He complied instantly, unable to help the grin that bloomed on his face as Loki pushed him flat on his back and climbed into his lap.

It was going to be a long, long night.


End file.
